God Eater 2: Days of Redemption
by Lushard
Summary: Wishes. They make us human, some people say; they keep our hearts alive. But can they save a dying world from falling apart? Sequel to 'Memories of Brighter Days.'
1. Arc I - Chapter 01

A Gods Eater 2 fan fiction by Lushard.

* * *

_It has begun, the end of the world._

_The red rain, a pandemic that has cost lots of lives, is pouring down upon our barren earth again._

_The Black Plague that strikes when one comes in contact with the rain makes sure that there are no survivors for those unlucky souls. Daily news report of loss of lives, the numbers rolling higher and higher in each passing day. Fenrir scientists are losing sleep as they try to find a cure to this hideous disease. Billions are spent, research is relentlessly conducted, but still no satisfying results come. Humanity is still doomed and on the verge of extinction once again._

_Many say that the Red Rain is a curse, a divine punishment for the errors humans have made. The others state that it is something that is bound to happen, that it is a part of an ancient prophecy about the apocalypse that has been written in the Holy Scripture thousands of years ago. Logical people believe that it is a natural happenstance, nothing but a natural occurrence. All of those theories, though, don't matter. As long as humanity staggers in their quest to survive, theories will just be theories. They can never liberate a dying world such as ours._

_I wonder if we could ever be free from pain and suffering. I wonder… if a new world does exist somewhere, waiting to be discovered by men._

_A wishful thinking. But at least it's not a dead hope._

_I want to believe in that hope._

* * *

**GODS EATER 2: DAYS OF REDEMPTION**

**Arc I**

**- The Power Within -**

**Chapter 01**

* * *

13 – 10 – 2075 / 07 : 29 : 07

Morning started out with a gloomy sky. Dark clouds are hanging on the vast blue, obscuring the sun from view. It wouldn't be long before a heavy rain started falling.

"At least they're not red," said a voice still heavy with sleep.

Hiro Kamui nodded absently as he played with his spoon. A half-empty bowl of warm soup was before him, but he had no appetite to finish the dish. Seated beside him was a sleepy young blond who had been yawning through his breakfast.

"You're not gonna finish that up?" asked the blond.

Hiro weighed his chances. But, "No." He shoved the bowl to Romeo, who looked a bit more awake now that he was given an extra portion of meal.

"Sweet."

Hiro smiled wryly at that. Looking at the slim guy, one would never guess that someone of his stature and weight was capable of eating a family-size portion of serving. It was not the first time that Hiro wondered where all those calories went. Romeo, as far as he knew, could empty plates of food in a matter of minutes and still order some desserts afterward. It was no wonder that the Italian had made himself an enemy of the cook boys and kitchen ladies, the animosity level on par with that they directed towards another cheerful soul whose interest was only in stealing ingredients and rations for 'food experimentation,' as she put it. Supplies were always short when the two were around, they said. Now if only wolfing down a huge amount of food could do something to _his height_…

"Don't give me that look," Romeo said lowly, throwing Hiro a half-hearted glare. His spoon though, didn't stop from moving.

Hiro raised his eyebrows, maintaining a somewhat blank, taunting expression. "What look?"

"The 'how come a guy this small could eat that much and _stay_ small' look? He's not the only one ever wondering."

Both guys turned their heads toward the new voice. A tall figure was striding casually to the cafeteria table, his lean form towering over Romeo once he was near enough to stand close to him. On his scarred face was a playful smirk. "All your efforts stretching in your room everyday doesn't pay, huh?"

Romeo muttered something that could be equivalent to a grumpy 'Shut up' or 'Curse you' before he choked on his food and loudly coughed a couple of times. Gilbert's lazy smirk widened a bit before it completely disappeared. "Got news," he said, looking at Hiro. "The higher-ups have decided to let that guy run free."

Hiro narrowed his eyes. He had speculated that it was not going to be long before such decision was made. But he hadn't expected for it to be this soon. Fenrir sure never dawdled in making important judgments. "He's going to join us on missions then?"

Gilbert leaned on the table, folded his arms across his chest. "Looks like it. Officially now. We'll be asked to keep an eye, I bet, since they decide not to collar him."

"Huh. What're they thinking, I wonder," Romeo chimed in after he emptied a glass of water and wiped his mouth. "Letting someone like that wielding a God Arc under their noses…"

"All I can say is that Fenrir doesn't have much choice," Gilbert said. There was a hint of sarcasm in his words, laced with distaste. "They won't likely to let a valuable material of research and soldier rot in some underground cell. The closer they can get a look on him, the better. And the more useful they could make him be…"

He didn't have to bring that sentence into completion. They had all beginning to get a glimpse of what Fenrir's nature was truly like beyond the mask of chivalry, and neither of them were going to debate over it for the time being. Though not given much information about it, the BLOOD Force had been closely involved with the Black Cloaks case that had started out months ago, both in combat and in judicial examination. They had been asked to intercept their attacks twice, and memories of the battles hadn't left a good impression. Even now, Hiro could still recall how impassive their faces had been when they'd injured the people at the Far East Branch, making his heart drum faster in anger and agitation.

The scene of destruction they'd left in their wake after their bold infiltration some time ago was still fresh in his mind. Slaughter. That word would fit better. Memories of bodies lying on the ground, screams and alarms blaring and desperate soldiers were crowding in. They did little to ease the knot that had been ever present in his stomach since dawn. Hiro sipped his morning tea to wash down the bitterness that filled his mouth.

"Well," Gilbert said, standing up straight, "it's not like we have a voice in the matter."

Romeo pouted. "Must we always do the hard work?"

"You're not seriously expecting me to answer that," Gilbert brushed Romeo's whining off with a flat stare. "The Captain told me to get you guys, so let's get going."

Reluctantly the two stood up from their table and followed Gilbert to the Friar Lobby. They took the elevator and made their way through the hallways. The people, mostly scientists and mechanics who resided in Friar, whom they'd greeted along the way seemed more rigid than usual, Hiro noted. It looked like the rumor had spread fast. Worse, that it was true.

Romeo was the only one who kept talking throughout the walk, mentioning how the people seated above were either dumb skulls or greedy freaks, and how they, the BLOOD Unit, was the one who got to bear the burden of close supervision and risk of another siege borne from betrayal. When the mechanical doors swished open, the only words that came from Romeo was a hissing, "This'd better be a joke." Hiro quickly got what he meant.

Standing in the middle of the lower area of the lobby was four people. Three of them were familiar faces. It was the one who had his back on them that drew most of their attention to the point of acute awareness that any combatants would subconsciously feel upon entering combat. The man was clothed in standard BLOOD Uniform, the golden Fenrir insignia on his back jutting out like a sore thumb, a plain statement that the decision made by the high-ranking officers was absolute and not to be questioned.

The three stopped a good distance away from the stranger, looking at their comrades with watchful eyes, as if waiting for a beast trainer to say that it was okay to get closer and pet the animal. Julius was the first to react.

With an eerie calm only an austere commander could muster, the Captain said, "Meet a new member of our Unit. Maxwell."

The man with dirty blond hair turned. Hiro's shoulders tensed. He was only some inches shorter than Gilbert, could not be older than the Scottish by looks. But there was something in his presence that made Hiro feel that he was trying to blend into the shadows and be unnoticed, something that might have resulted from times lurking in dark places. And there were the eyes… The eyes were the same as he remembered them: dark blood red, devoid of emotion, so unreadable under the play of light that one could mistake them for dark brown instead of red.

Julius broke the staring contest between the person introduced as Max and the three guys by announcing their names. Hiro could see that Nana and Ciel had both been silent throughout the ordeal—Ciel being Ciel, and Nana not being her usual self.

"I'm sure you all know about the circumstances," said Julius patiently. His hand was on his hip, as usual, but there was that guarded aura surrounding him that they all shared. Apparently he had objected to the matter as well. "He will be assigned to our Unit starting from today. The weeks he's spent in the labs indicate that he is compatible with a certain bias factor developed by the Far East Branch and is more than capable to wield a New-Type God Arc, though the special force we know as the Power of Blood is yet to be seen." He looked at Maxwell. "You will be joining us annihilation missions until an unspecified date. The rest is just as I've told you. Is that clear?"

He nodded.

Annihilation missions. _Only _on annihilation missions. It meant that he was not yet trusted to go on patrol missions and must act within a bound of rules and restrictions. Adequate, but still the feeling of unrest refused to leave Hiro.

Ciel was the one who spoke this time. "I will be assigned to escort you along with the Co-Captain for the time being." She was directing the words to Maxwell, but her eyes quickly darted to Hiro, searching for backup. "Missions you will take will also be supervised by us."

Again, Maxwell nodded, slow and curt. His eyes were assessing the people around him with vigilance that was well-masked. "Co-Captain," he drawled, dark red orbs settling on Hiro's figure. His voice was deep and throaty, one that could belong only to those who didn't use it often. "Is it you?"

"I believe we've met." Hiro offered a half smile, an icy one, and found no more words to say without sounding rude. They had. Hiro had been the person who had supported the guy when he was badly wounded. A silent order from Julius which he hadn't dared to refuse.

Maxwell looked calm and simply acknowledged Hiro's words with a vague movement of his head. In retrospect, everyone around him except for Julius was beginning to tense up further, as if expecting a fight. The idea could not be more alluring, Hiro thought viciously. Gods, how he would _like _to voice his concern over the whole idea and his resentment toward the newly added BLOOD member right there.

He disliked the former Black Cloak, despised the eyes that seemed bottomless, and always analyzing. But he knew better than to try… If Julius had done so without success, what could he, a mere Co-Captain do to change the decision Fenrir had made?

Every complaint and question they had regarding the incident had been ignored. Even the chief and vice supervisor had told them to simply accept whatever shallow explanation Fenrir gave out to media as it was, which only fueled most people's curiosity and anger. Gods Eaters were not so differently treated. They had very little room to criticize, or to speak even. Their only concern should always lie in the safety of the fiefs they were entrusted with. Hiro had learned to accept all of these, even with reluctance.

But the same self-control couldn't be expected from everyone.

Before anyone could say a thing, Romeo exploded. "So, now they think we lack in numbers so bad that we need someone who has raised his blade towards us to strengthen our ranks," he said. He forced a crude laughter. "Impressive display of trust! We truly are valued."

Ciel warily eyed the Italian. "Romeo..."

"Ha! This guy _killed _our comrades!" he shouted with a finger pointed at Maxwell, not bothering to disguise his disgust now. "How can you guys be so irrational? I thought we were simply gonna be asked to supervise, not keeping a murderous hound near our feet anywhere we go!"

Julius cleared his throat and though that did little Romeo's temper, it did well in telling him to back down and cool off. Romeo merely threw a look at the Captain and left. After seeking permission from Julius, Gilbert and Nana went after him.

Julius heaved a sigh. "I'm supposed to be apologizing for my subordinate's behavior..." he said deliberately. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, the pale orbs glinted with warning. "...I'm sure you know your position. Please keep in mind that as long as you wear that armlet," he paused to regard the black armlet on Maxwell's left wrist, "you are to keep your head low and refrain from acting against order."

It was both an order and a threat. Blunt and clear. Working with the young Captain for the past few months had told Hiro that Julius Visconti was never someone to waste words, more so in regarding them lightly.

"I understand."

The affirmative reply of Maxwell's didn't immediately settle the tension in the air. Julius looked at Hiro and Ciel, then once again, repressed a sigh. "Co-Captain. I'll leave the rest to you. Please escort Maxwell to his room and see Fran for mission updates afterwards."

"I will."

"Good." For a second, Julius seemed like he was about to say more about it, but after a thought, decided against it. He went to the upper area without a sparing glance.

Hiro subconsciously stood closer to Ciel after Julius had left. An instinct, perhaps. To protect, and to be protected. To band up in the face of a beast that might bare its fangs and attack them anytime.

It did not pass Maxwell's observations. He said, "I'm not gonna jump at you."

It seemed to be a neutral statement, something to ease them both, a light reminder that they now, were in the very base of a Fenrir-labeled research institute. They were in a place packed with armored cyborgs and guards where even someone with a brain defect would not dare to play around. Nevertheless, Hiro couldn't help but to translate it as a mockery, if not something worse. Gut feeling was telling him to be careful and extra aware around the man. Gut feeling he did trust. "I'd never know," was all the reply he got.

There was a slight tug at the corner of Maxwell's mouth. It vanished too soon before it could be rendered as a smile. He said nothing more.

* * *

xx - I - xx

* * *

13 – 10 – 2075 / 07 : 57 : 12

"Do you think it's a wise decision, letting that guy run unchained?"

Dr. Rachel Claudius turned her head at her sister, who was walking to her working chamber with two cups of steaming coffee, her scarlet hair swaying behind her in an elegant manner. She set one cup down on the table, near Rachel's hand, and stood beside her wheelchair, eyes fixed on the monitors that showed the inside of Ray Maxwell's room.

The younger sibling smiled as she thanked Leah for the coffee. "You are worried?"

"Just a little bit," Leah said, then smiled. "That was my thought as a Fenrir officer. As a scientist, I'd say that he's a fine specimen to be studied."

Rachel shared the feeling and understood it well. This Maxwell character had completed all the DNA tests and proved to be able to receive a bias factor that was a blend of the usual bias factor used to strengthen the New-Type Gods Eaters and the one developed only for the BLOOD members. Several symptoms he did show and report, but none were severe enough to hinder from his daily activities as a combatant. He showed great prowess as a Gods Eater, boasted enhanced senses that surpassed even those of most New Types'. The only flaws she'd discovered were only his inferior control over cell-mutation and the constant scourge of side effects the bias factor had on his body. A routine medication, close check-ups and a generous supply of sleeping pills would fix those.

"I personally think he won't try anything harmful while confined in this place," Rachel calmly added. Said subject of conversation was now in the middle of familiarizing with his new room: opening cupboards, checking out equipments, looking out for any suspicious devices that Rachel had made hidden. The cameras installed in his room would alert them of any suspicious behaviors.

"What makes you be so sure of that?"

"His past record as a Gods Eater. Also his decisions after he rebelled against his own cause."

What appeared to be a sympathetic smile darkened and softened Leah's feature at the same time. "I've checked NORN for his history. Many cover-ups, another proof that there _are_many things that have been going on in that branch without our knowledge." A reference to the late Director of the branch, Rachel knew. "But that Sakaki Old Man kindly gave me access to some restricted data. Dug up for information here and there." Leah must have also read about his actions in the past and relationships with his former comrades-in-arms.

"It is very like you to get sentimental over people's life stories," Rachel pointed with a giggle.

"Don't tease me. I'm not an old lady yet." She shared her amusement still.

"You are not, Sister. It was a compliment. But of course, we will exercise caution. He will be closely supervised by Julius and Hiro Kamui. I'll double check to make sure that all the cams are functioning well." And if the cameras in his room weren't enough, all the terminals in FRIAR were logged in to the mother computer that was in her room, meaning that no one could ever access a terminal without notice. "All the guards have also been told to stay alert as well."

Leah stayed silent as she listened. She brought her fingers to her chin, a giveaway to her unease. "Let's hope that your hunch about him is right... I've seen the footage of those people's assault and the damage they'd caused to the Far East Branch. I don't want the same thing to happen to our institute."

"I assure you not to worry." Rachel pushed a button and the main monitor showed an image full of diagrams, numbers and scattered dots. "He shouldn't be our concern right now, don't you think, Sister?"

"Ah. The Red Rain," Leah sighed. She studied what was shown in the screen, paying close attention to the escalating number of victims. "Its frequency is getting higher and higher."

"Indeed. I am currently trying to learn as much as I can about it, but I haven't found any relevant findings. All I can do now is maximizing my effort in upgrading the cyborgs to reduce the casualties among the Gods Eaters."

Leah placed her cup on the table and folded her arms. "It sure is preferable to have them do the combat when it rains. But the problem we have with the threat of mutation has reached the old ones' ears."

"I'm aware of that. I am working on that too." Truth was, God Arc Soldiers were not fully machines. They were hybrids, a grand result of her years of research of human genetics and Aragami transmutation and machinery. The part of them that stayed half-Aragami was not immune to sudden change in cell structure. Red Rain might have no effect on Aragami, but it was the other half of those beings that was the issue.

"I'm hoping to hear good news soon," said Leah as she turned to leave. "In the meantime, I'll handle all the paperwork and issues with the Far East Branch regarding our new guest and hunting protocol."

She bowed her head lightly. "Please do."

The door opened, and Leah walked out of the room, her words trailing behind her. "Don't work too hard now."

Rachel stared at the door where her sister had disappeared behind. "Too hard…" she murmured. The faint smile that was always on her lips stretched for a tiny bit. Such a peculiar term.

There was never a thing that was 'too hard' for her.

* * *

xx - I - xx

* * *

13 – 10 – 2075 / 07 : 57 : 41

How many days had passed since she'd been thrown into this dungeon? How many weeks?

Such was a perfect example of a futile question.

Karen knew that asking herself a repetitive unanswerable question could make her mad. Being kept in an underground lab had taught her that. Despite knowing that, she could not help but to ponder.

The only compass of time she was presented with was her daily meals. She would be fed three times a day, and occasionally be bound and walked to a small lab not far from her prison cell to have her blood drawn and liquids she suspected were various samples of bias factor injected to her system. There would be several guards and Gods Eaters standing about when it happened. She hadn't reacted as they had expected; she hadn't fought back or tried to escape. She knew that her attempts to break free from her captivity were going to be fruitless anyway. She was without any weapons, weak from continuous sedation through her meals, and without purpose. What challenge could she pose in such a weakened state? She even doubted she could deliver a proper punch to an unmoving dummy, let alone picking up a weapon and aiming it accurately to a moving soldier.

Karen lolled her head back, leaning against the cold, hard wall. If there was something she was accustomed to, it was being told by fate to stay still and wait. She'd spent her days waiting in that god-forsaken lab to be called out for another round of battle between test subjects. She'd spent more time waiting in her pod waiting for another mission to be given. Now…? Without any promise for a trial or execution, she wasn't sure what she was waiting for.

Perhaps another round of blood sample test. Perhaps another meal boozed with sedatives. Or perhaps...nothing. Keeping your hopes alive within you in a place dark enough to silent even rats and bats was the first indication that you were going mad. She was not. She would not let herself be humiliated like that, even if that was the only battle she was presented with. Floating in the state of emptiness was, at the very least, more honorable rather than surrendering your mind to illusions.

Dwindling footsteps resounded in the empty hallway, halting her thoughts. Karen didn't move. Another poisoned meal to keep her alive was arriving.

The footsteps stopped right before her cell. A clank of metal tray meeting the stone floor. "Your breakfast," said a man's voice.

Karen didn't try to move nor speak. Her head was still heavy with sleep; her body was still numb from last night's fill. No one had ever waited for her response. They would usually just deliver the tray of food and water and be off, never wanting to bother in the dark, murky place.

This one particular person didn't immediately leave. It was then she opened her eyes.

A figure of a man dressed in Fenrir guardsman uniform was crouching before her, a standard cap covering half of his face. In the darkness, she could not see him clearly.

"Check your meal, Miss," he said in a moderately cheery tone. No one in his sane mind had ever been gleeful when delivering meals to a prisoner.

That made Karen blink. She was trying to squint to see better; she cleared her head with a few shakes. She moved slowly to sit. Bad choice. The movement made her insides do a somersault. Her muscles were strained from lack of use; the process of setting her feet on the floor was painfully slow.

A chortle from the man. "Take your time there. Just want to make sure you're healthy, not torturing you," he said, again in that same light tone. "The omelette looks tasty today, perhaps the kitchen people are in a good mood. So should you." When Karen didn't respond, he let out a chortle. In a low, conspiratory voice, the man added, "He doesn't employ me to see you rot away."

'_He?_'

She tried to squeak some response, but before she could the man stood up and left, leaving her once again in a silence broken only by the low humming of machines and generators. Could she be...hallucinating? Forcing her body to move, she crawled to the door, hands searching around the floor. Bony fingers met cool metal and a warm plate. She wasn't imagining things then. Karen skimmed over it, felt the soft surface of what the man promised to be an omelette, and brought the plate closer to her face. The smell of the dish was fragrant, but her dull senses could not relish in it.

Omelette… There was something about the way the guard's way of mentioning it that seemed off.

With a vision that was still blurry, all she could do was to use her fingers to trace the food, to look for anything that was amiss. She found it right away.

Braille.

Carved maybe with a small, sharp object, was Braille; small palpable dots on the smooth surface of the omelette. Her heart started to leap at the discovery. Someone was sending her a message!

Carefully, she examined the omelette again, trying to figure out what was written on it by connecting the dots altogether. Her attempts met a dead end for the first few times. But after she groped for a canteen of water and used the content to splash her face, her focus sharpened and she finally got the characters.

There was only one word on it. It read:

'_Prepare._'


	2. Chapter 02

A Gods Eater 2 fan fiction by Lushard.

* * *

**Ark I**

**Chapter 02**

* * *

14 – 10 – 2075 / 10 : 01 : 17

One did not have to doubt the skill Dr. Paylor Sakaki possessed to make a room unrecognizable in mere hours. If his working chamber in the Anagura had been 'messy,' then this chaos, previously a small and neat working chamber in the east wing of Satellite Base 011, would need a new term to describe the horror. Papers were littering the floor of the room where the doctor had been left to work a day ago; various designs and construction plans lie haphazardly on his table, along with empty cups of coffee and leftovers of his meals. The curtains hadn't been drawn, and in the semi-darkness one might think that a stray Aragami had come and ransacked the place.

Kota repressed a sigh. He was bound to help him in cleaning up the room. Again. Beside him, Erina was already fuming.

"Do you always have to make such a mess?!" the girl shrieked.

Sakaki's head snapped up from behind the mountain of papers and trash on his desk, looking all sleepy and surprised. His gray hair, usually untamed and messy, was now sticking in all directions. "Oh," he mumbled as he scrambled for his glasses. "When did you two come?"

"To the Base, an hour ago. To your door, fifteen minutes ago," Kota supplied, all bitter and annoyed. Meaning: they, well, Kota to be precise, had knocked, rammed, slammed on the door _for_ fifteen minutes non-stop.

"Gosh, doc. You need a siren for an alarm," imbued Erina.

"Be not too kind to install that," the doctor replied. He straightened up in his chair. "I was studying more about the Anti-Aragami Armor that we're installing in this area, and well, I found out some interesting things and came up with some new projects, so…"

"You got carried away," Erina cut in, "as always."

His smile looked sheepish despite the glares he was receiving. "Well. Being away from my office doesn't make me any restless. So," Sakaki clapped his hands, "what is it?"

Kota was about to add more to the doc's statement, but he held his tongue. Sarcasm could wait. From his pocket he produced a memory card, then handed it to Sakaki. "It was a record from our patrol team. The 4th Defense Unit, to be exact."

The doctor inspected it with interest, his face darkening. "Don't tell me…"

"Yeah," Kota said. "It contains a one-minute record of their...battle against the newly-sighted Aragami."

One minute. It had only been one minute, and out of four people, only one managed to return, and he was not without some serious injuries. Erina looked away in contempt. "One of them was my friend," she said, almost in a whisper. "I swear I'll track this fox down."

Dr. Sakaki remained mute for a while, then he placed the memory card into his portable computer and watched it with narrowed eyes. Kota had already watched it several times after the record had been brought to him four hours ago. He knew exactly what Sakaki was seeing on the monitor: how the team had been ambushed by rays of purple beams that seemed capable of slicing through metal like paper, how they had tried to intercept the incoming beast...and then the slaughter.

The record might be blurry and damaged, but it still managed to replay _that part _quite clearly. When watching it, he had muted the sound just to block out the screams of his now dead comrades.

Sakaki replayed it two times before finally looking up from his laptop. He folded his hands before him, touching them to his mouth, a sign of distress Kota knew so well. "Disturbing," he concluded.

"Judging from its shape and size, it is most similar to the Hannibal, if not slightly bigger," Kota said. He didn't point out that its many tails resembled the one strange species that had taken his friend's life a year ago. Only now the numbers of the tails were multiplied. "Its movements are sharp, quick, deadly. I'd say it is the quickest Aragami I've ever seen."

"It attacks with its claws as well as with its tails, hence the purplish beams," mused Sakaki aloud. "Where was this beast last sighted?"

"Fifteen kilometers from this base, give or take."

Erina scoffed. "We'd be mad not to prepare for it feasting upon this place."

"At the same time, we'd be mad to think we can slay it easily," Sakaki said. He looked at Kota. "Can I assume that this beast is the same from the one that wiped our 5th Defense Unit last week?"

Another calamity, where an entire unit dispatched on a night patrol had been annihilated. Kota said, "I'm not entirely sure. I've looked at the corpses and submitted them to the autopsy team, though. They will come up with the results in two hours or so."

"But based on your intuition alone?"

Three years spent as a defender had taught Kota much, and his deductions were mostly right on cue when it came into things like this. That, said Tsubaki, had been one of the reasons why he was enlisted Captain. "Yes."

Sakaki heaved a breath, leaning back. "I see. A new species then."

"Tighten the defenses?" Erina guessed.

"That, please do. And...we might as well as try to gather as much information as we can about this Aragami too." His eyes traveled back to his computer screen. "Which reminds me, I've been receiving strange readings for two months now, all of which are showing irregular activities of the Aragami within fifty to a hundred kilometers radius. I'm hoping that I'm wrong, but, it seems that we have more than _one _newly evolved species lurking about."

Kota thought for a while. If that was true, then this fox could very well be another Aragami that could suppress the God Arc. "The BLOOD's on the move to check on the wolfish one, right?"

"The Marduk. Yes. They left to track it down while researching more about the Red Rain."

"And now we got this," mumbled Erina.

"I'll try to see what I can find," Sakaki said. "In the meantime, Erina, could you please contact Hibari to dispatch more patrol units?"

The girl managed to send the doctor an assessing stare for a second before turning on her heels to leave. When the door was shut behind her, Kota sighed. "She knows you're sending her away on purpose. Man, I'll be the one to suffer later." Dealing with Erina had never failed to drain both energy and patience out of him.

An unapologetic smile curled Sakaki's thin lips. "Sorry about that."

"You're not. So what is it?"

"Now that you've brought me a disturbing piece of information, what I'll be telling you will consist of three matters." Ignoring the pained look on Kota's face, Sakaki continued. "The most pressing matter about our little fox, first: I want you to contact Lindow and Soma. Quickly form a counter unit against this Aragami. Gather as much info as you can, track it down. We can't afford to lose more people at this rate."

"Consisting only the three of us?"

"Four," Sakaki corrected with a smile. "You forgot the lady."

Alisa. He nodded, but then paused. "Is that all right? Isn't she still in charge of the Satellite Base Development and Security?"

She had been occupied with the project ever since the incident with the Black Cloaks. She had avoided talking about it altogether, and Kota hadn't tried to confront her about it after so many failed attempts. Despite the smile that she wore, she was still hurting, he knew. Over everything that had happened, over so many things they had never thought possible of occurring.

And truth to be told, so was he.

"Patience, Kota. We'll be jumping into the second matter if we bring that up."

Kota groaned, already foreseeing this. "Those people again, isn't it? What, they still can't accept the project? At this stage of development?"

At the mention of that, Sakaki's face turned a shade paler, his weariness finally showing. Suddenly Kota felt sorry for him. Shouldering responsibilities of all going-ons in the branch was no easy burden to bear; Sakaki, no matter how his appearance might fool people, was a man of science at heart. It was never in him to work with papers that had minimum references to his research, more so to govern an entire branch. That was where Tsubaki came in. But now that the Satellite project was in motion, their respective workloads had all but increased, forcing the doctor to widen his scope of vision.

"It will be easier if they could be persuaded to watch first and talk later, but you know that is not in their nature." Of course. Those self-centered bastards seated on high had rarely looked below without measuring the flow of sum. Their eyes were solely drawn to profit, all for the sake of protecting Fenrir from bankruptcy. "Some of them are still objecting to the project, but thankfully the wage lent to us hasn't been cut."

"Yet."

"Yet," Sakaki agreed. "But still, as long as their taunts and mockeries stay in the form of words, there should be no administrative problems. For the time being, at least."

"So? What's it about?"

"The people."

Kota was dumbstruck, silenced for one good second. "What about them?" The cogs in his head responded late. The moment he asked, the answer came. "Oh." _Oh_.

Sakaki's face lightened a bit. "You've become sharper," he remarked idly. "Yes. Trust issue. As usual."

It was becoming more and more apparent lately, after the Ark Project had been thwarted and the existence of Nemos Diana had received people's attention. Not many heads were in agreement to every decision Fenrir made in the first place. There were some who maintained their skeptical look on life, and these people were usually quick with their tongues, spreading rumors here and there, persuading civilians to side with them and question Fenrir's motives. The Ark Project and the late Black Cloaks incident had increased that skepticism by a great deal, and the number of people who were now encouraged to revolt against Fenrir was multiplied. TV programs were filled with news about them.

There could be no helping that some people did view the Satellite Project was more like a cover-up for a bigger scheme. Kota couldn't blame them from thinking like that. Even his mother had questioned him several times about the project whenever he was home. While some viewed it as Fenrir's desperate attempt to redeem for their past mistakes, some other, who supported the project-albeit still full of doubts, were content on living in the grey area and simply accepted the offer to transfer while voicing their wants and doubts.

For all it was worth, Kota found himself at a loss of words. Dealing with such diplomatic issue was an alien subject to him. And the question arose: "What's it got to do with me?"

"The third matter," the doctor replied all too smoothly. The smile, the one that all Gods Eaters of the Far East Branch dreaded, was there. Not strangely, Kota had a feeling that he had stepped on a landmine. "You must have heard the name of Yuno Ashiraha."

"Yes…" he drawled, not sure where this sudden turn of conversation was going. "She's a singer from that Nemos Diana. Got publicized recently, frequently appearing on the radio, garnering enough fans within a short amount of time." Not to mention that she was quite a looker too. Kota had met her once, when he had been tasked to pick up Soma and Alisa from the secluded sector. "You haven't answered the question, Professor. What's it got to do with _me_?"

While pushing his glasses up his nose, Sakaki's smile grew, dangerously so. "Have you ever thought of appearing on TV?"

* * *

xx - I - xx

* * *

14 – 10 – 2075 / 12 : 36 : 17

For days after the Satellite Project had been launched in full motion, hours seemed to tickle too fast to be tracked. Tasks were abundant: check the development plans the architects had designed, check the papers, submit them, help the Professor to assign patrol teams and change units, go on tracking Aragami who stuck their noses too close to the bases. It was a devious cycle that kept Alisa awake on most nights, bombarding her mind with loads that sometimes felt too much to handle. In the mornings she would go to nearby bases, and before the sun set she would be locked in meetings and evals. It was always guaranteed that she would sleep with a tablet which memory was almost overloaded with data and reports.

She didn't mind it. This hectic routine was more preferable rather than having nothing to do. Daily missions that concerned only of the Aragami usually didn't occupy her mind enough to keep it from backtracking to certain events in the past. Though being busy didn't mean that she could run from the haunted feeling.

Had she made the right decisions? Had she only hurt him more? His eyes, at that time they had last shared together, spoke of repressed feelings and hatred. That, she could tell. Her reflection in the past had had the same kind of gleam to her eyes, bred from years of yearning to unleash the bubbling anger within her in the name of vengeance.

And now, to see that in him pained her.

He, the one who'd pulled her out of the dark tunnel that had led her mad…

"You need rest."

Alisa looked up from the tablet in her hands, meeting a sympathetic stare of Hibari's. She had seated herself beside Alisa whilst she had been lost in thoughts. The bar stool was now almost empty of people, most were already finished with their lunch, and it registered into her late that the plate of omelet rice of hers hadn't been touched.

She tried to ease herself and drive the dark thoughts away with a smile. "I will, once I'm done with this."

"You were not reading," the older woman stated gently. "I saw your eyes growing vacant, your fingers stop moving." At what Alisa's expression must have shown, Hibari's eyes softened. "Your mind strayed, didn't it?"

Hibari was one of the few people in the Branch who knew what truly had happened. Of course, she, along with a few who did, had been told to keep their mouths shut about Ray. No further issues must be brought up lest it would damage Fenrir's reputation and raise questions about its connections.

Finding herself unable to rebuke, Alisa turned the tablet off and started towards her ignored lunch, the smile still carefully on display. "It did, but please, think nothing of it."

She seemed reluctant whether to pursue the matter or not. Alisa was grateful when she finally acknowledged her plea with a nod. "Still, you look a bit pale. You know you shouldn't neglect your health in favor of work."

"Thank you. I'll rest as you suggested after lunch." To avoid more topics about herself, Alisa took a spoonful of her food. The taste was...good. It was far better than bland rations that she had gotten used to for the past few weeks due to her travels in and out of the Branch. "Am I imagining it or Mutsumi's getting better?"

The girl, Mutsumi, was a new bar keeper and cook at the branch, who had stolen most Gods Eaters' hearts with her talents and skills. She was still so young, recruited into Fenrir not so long ago due to her circumstances of being orphaned early in life. Many had doubted her skills when she'd first entered, thinking that she had passed the recruitment tests only because of pity. Now after months had passed, words of doubts and scorn turned into praises; they couldn't have asked for a better cook. The girl must be a culinary genius. Throw her into a random kitchen and she could turn even the most absurd ingredients and materials into exquisite cuisines.

Hibari tasted her share of lunch, the same serving as Alisa's, and nodded. "I must say so. Even transfer Gods Eaters praise her."

"I can imagine." Behind her, Alisa could hear some guys ordering seconds to the young cook.

"Some of the newly appointed Gods Eaters are so troubled when told to travel far after she enlisted."

"I see why," Alisa smiled.

"Emille practically begged for Mutsumi to pack him lunch boxes before leaving."

An image of a blond Hammer-wielder popped up in her mind along with Kota's audible whine whenever he talked about his junior. She had met the eccentric Gods Eater a few times, and was always amused by his antics. "I think I can picture that happening."

"Yes. You should have seen the scene. It was totally hilarious."

"And did he succeed?"

The smile on Hibari's face widened. "No. Erina dragged him out of the longue before  
Mutsumi could comply."

Alisa laughed. "Typical of them, don't you think?"

"All the more reason why I sympathize with Kota."

The conversation steered into life at the Den: what everyone was busy doing, Hibari's nonchalant recites over the many gossips swirling around, funny stories about various of things. All in all Alisa found relief in the talk. Sure, spending time with her comrades had also been refreshing, but Hibari was...Hibari. She didn't press her over the Black Cloaks incident, didn't question things she'd rather not talk about, didn't give her that pitying/inquiring look that almost all of her acquaintances did her.

Minutes went by and lunch break was almost over. They stored their trays, and strolled back into the lobby. "Now, please do take some time to rest," said Hibari before going to her station at the front desk.

"Thank you." The smile Alisa gave her was nearly apologetic, for she knew she wouldn't be keeping her promise.

Riding the elevator alone, she skipped the button to her quarter and pushed the button that led into the laboratory instead. The few scientists shuffling about the area had all been accustomed to her presence, so much they didn't bat an eyelash at the Gods Eater. This was, after all, had become a routine. Under the guise of a normal check-up and bias factor injection, that was.

Alisa went to the room at the far back of the level. There, a middle-aged man whose hair was graying was already waiting for her. "Ah, welcome," Marcus said upon her entry, rising from his seat.

"Good afternoon," she greeted back.

Marcus was the key person who knew the operating system of the Black Cloaks. He had been involved in the siege, playing his part as a double-agent, then ending his ties with the underground organization with one gunshot that had saved Alisa's life.

"I'm sorry I haven't been able to meet you personally. I've been busy for the past month," he said. He motioned for Alisa to sit on a chair near a small operating table, and she did.

"I understand how busy you must have been," she brushed off his apology. "Being promoted into the head of research department concerning the bias factor and all."

"I do hope I'm lessening the burdens of Doctor Paylor's," he said with a wry smile. Quickly the man prepared a syringe and a piece of cotton. He sat across of Alisa, eyes narrowing as he concentrated, hands busy checking his instruments and inspecting her left arm for a vein. In almost no time he found what he'd been looking for. "On three… One… Two…"

A familiar sting prickled her skin. The needle didn't have to go deep to draw blood from her. Marcus had always been quick at this kind of thing, never hesitating, working as if he had been doing this for a lifetime. Soon the needle was pulled out, leaving a dull ache that was soothed by a cool cotton that had been dampened by alcohol.

Marcus went to work with his instruments at the table. Alisa pressed the cotton, waiting for the wound to knit itself, which, given her superior New Type's standard of healing, shouldn't take more than one or two minutes.

"How is it going...so far?" she asked to his back.

"You mean how _he_ is doing so far." There was a hint of smile and irony in his voice.

She cast her gaze to the floor.

"Everything works as I predicted, thankfully," he said. "The developed bias factor used by those people on him and his kind was something that was not hard to replicate, once you know what they'd done to upgrade the original. Though I'm still finding trouble in making a perfect copy, but it seems that my theory about using the very extract of substance that could combat further cell-mutation is right. He had, after all, been transfused with your blood."

The very thing that had started all this madness. Edric made that clear on their last battle at Aegis. She had been the cause to all of this.

"The girl locked down in the dungeon helps too. Her blood has the antibody we need in Maxwell's case."

An image of a young woman who had the same eyes as Ray's, whom she had crossed blades with during the Black Cloaks' second infiltration, appeared in her mind. Little was known about her, and Alisa hadn't met her personally out of a battle field, but she could remember how stern Ray had been when her-was her name Karen?-case had been brought up in trial. Though not saying much, he had made it a point that should he adhere to Fenrir's decision then sparing her life would become a necessity. Fenrir had considered that bet, and nodded, even if somewhat begrudgingly.

Suddenly feeling uneasy, Alisa tried to move out of the topic. "Is there any known side effect then?"

"So far I have found very few. He hasn't reported any significant cons either. So I assume it is safe to continue with the current procedure we have until I can come up with a better results in synthesizing a perfect one for them."

"Then he doesn't have to know…"

Marcus turned to fix her a wide-eyed stare. "Oh? But he does."

Alisa's heart clenched tight. Him knowing of what precisely the prototype bias factor was made of would likely complicate things between them, and the last thing she needed was things to be more complicated than they already were. "You didn't-"

"Oh, no. I didn't tell him that we've been using your blood all this while. But I think he does know: he asked me to say 'thank you' to you."

* * *

xx - I - xx

* * *

14 – 10 – 2075 / 19 : 11 : 07

Subject: Dr. Marcus' Bias Factor

From: Rachel Claudius

Dr. Marcus has contacted me that there is a slight modification to your usual injection, so he passed me a message to warn you to refrain from activities that are too straining for the time being. He also asked me if you have experienced nausea and headaches, and you are to report to me if you feel anything out of the ordinary. Other than that, please also refrain from taking more than two sleeping pills per day. We don't want them to mess with what we've been working for.

How are you adjusting to the FRIAR? I do hope you find this place comfortable.

* * *

14 – 10 – 2075 / 21 : 31 : 58

Subject: Re-Schedule

From: FRIAR OP

Due to a change of course in our routes because of the Red Rain and mechanical problems that arose with it, we will re-schedule all missions for the next seven days. Please come to check at the Front Desk to see the changes.

* * *

15 – 10 – 2075 / 00 : 02 : 43

Subject:

From: Unidentified Sender

C. 4. 3. 5. 4. R. V FRGH

DFW QRZ


End file.
